Knight of the Children
by BullardCR
Summary: The world has fallen into darkness. As Seele continues to operate above the law, the only hope lies in a Child who does not exist.
1. Rebirth

I do not own the rights to "Neon Genesis Evangelion", "Knight Rider"or any of the persons, places, intangibles, or concepts within. This fan fiction is a non-profit tribute to both series. Therefore, if requested by Hideki Anno, Gainax, Glen A. Larson, Universal, or other interested parties, I will discontinue and remove this story immediately.

**Tokyo-2, December 2015:**

"Wilton, we have to evacuate!" Devon Miles shouted over the whir of the VTOL transport's twin engines. As the gray, aging man stumbled towards the aircraft with his personal doctor, Wilton Knight blinked back the mist forming over his eyes. Devon knew just as he did, the battle was lost. Their agent was unable to penetrate the Committee's inner circle and prevent the launch of the Mass Production units.

They had fought so hard and so long to stop the organization from taking control of the world. The Human Completion Project was against the basic laws and fundamental truths of man. That a group of eccentrics would deem this madness was in the best interest of the human race was a black mark on what shred of nobility remained after the Second Impact.

As the VTOL pulled away from the rooftop of the Knight Industries Tokyo-2 office, they could see a flash of brilliant, white light on the horizon. "My God," Devon whispered. "They… they dropped it directly on the city…" Devon turned back to the refugees flooding the streets of Tokyo-2 since a week before. The tents and shacks erected converted the remnants of the metropolis into a shantytown.

"It won't stop there," Wilton replied, a coughing fit held back against his closed fist. "Devon, signal the pilot… to divert and search for survivors." As both Devon and the pilot protested, however, a wash of orange light erupted over the city streets below. Suddenly, the VTOL started diving towards the surface, the co-pilot frantically transferring control to his station. Gripping the passenger safety railings along the cabin, Wilton tried to stand, peering over the edge.

As he did, he watched a white specter of a teen girl approach, brushing her hand against his cheek, and then blackness.

**Tokyo-3, January 2016:**

Wilton Knight limped from the VTOL wreckage as Devon continued calling on the emergency channel to any remaining survivors. The Third Impact had eliminated pilot and co-pilot alike, the orange puddles of their remains sloshing ever so slightly in the sealed cabin of the wreckage.

In the distance, he thought he saw something. The white, black, and tan mottling stood apart from the deep crimson and tinted hues of gray. "Devon!" he shouted, falling to his knees as he coughed up traces of blood. His rumpled tan suit stained and torn from the landing, he knelt in the mud as his partner approached hastily to his side.

"Wilton!" Devon started. "You can't wander off-"

"There's someone along the beach, over there!" he answered, pointing his trembling hand towards the unknown shape. Starting to rise from the tainted soil, Wilton took Devon's hand, his legs shaking as he struggled with each step. Mr. Miles knew he couldn't stop the man, simply walking along side him, helping him to the figure.

Standing over the unconscious body of the boy, his brown hair mottled with blood, cobalt eyes staring sightlessly into nothing, Devon pulled away from Wilton long enough to check the boy's vitals. "He's alive, barely…" They both stared down at the knife wound that cut into his face, and the white neural clips grasped in his hands. "He's a pilot… one of the Children!"

Suddenly a brilliant light flooded over the three figures, and the whir of a helicopter's blades echoed against the utter silence of the Post-Impact Earth. "We're taking him with us," Wilton commanded, his voice barely perceptible over the roar of the approaching aircraft.

**New Santa Barbara, California, April 2023:**

A young man with brown hair and blue eyes highlighted by a vertical scar down his left cheek stood in the lavishly decorated office in the Knight mansion just outside of New Santa Barbara, staring out at the darkened coastline. A black duffle bag hung over his shoulder, the Knight logo printed in gold over the canvas. Dressed in his black suit and tie, he wiped the stray tears from his red-rimmed eyes. The other guests and attendants of the service had long since gone, leaving him with Devon.

"It's been seven years, Shinji," Mr. Miles started, walking back to the highly polished wooden desk. The man stood at six feet tall, in a well-tailored black suit, his hair combed into an asymmetrical, waving part. Setting the paperwork on the desk, he looked back, his graying eyes studying the young only an inch under his height. "You're more than prepared-"

"Devon," Shinji sighed, bowing his head in shame. "Please… no, I'm not prepared for this!" Shinji had been over it with Devon Miles, the director of the Foundation for Law and Government for the last eighteen months. "Even with Wilton here… No… I can't do this!"

Devon sighed in frustration, straightening the blazer to his suit. Collecting himself, Mr. Miles straightened his back, projecting the calm, rational, and trusting nature that had convinced the younger Ikari over so many years before. "Shinji… when we found you, Wilton knew you were someone special. He took a risk bringing you into his home, making you a part of the family." As the young man wilted under the FLAG director's gaze, Devon continued. "When you graduated from Stanford, then worked beside me in the Foundation, he knew the kind of man you would become. Wilton had no doubts. In the seven years I have known you, there has been no hesitation, no reason in my mind to suggest otherwise."

"I appreciate everything you have done, but… seriously… there's just no way!" Shinji clenched his left hand in a stress reflex. "What could I possibly do?"

"One man's dream," Devon answered simply.

"But… I just can't!" Shinji shouted, slumping forward as a fresh trace of tears formed in his eyes. "One man… one man _can't_ make a difference! Not against _them_. I should be proof of that."

Devon nodded slowly, walking towards the window, staring out at the reconstruction efforts. "If that is your final decision…" Turning back to Ikari, Mr. Miles started drafting the paperwork. "You're still a valued member of the Foundation, and we want you to stay. I want you to stay."

"I… I'll think about it… after…" Shinji answered, gesturing to the duffle bag. As he watched Devon stare in disapproval, Ikari could only challenge him with his reasons. "If I don't know… I never will. There are too many old ghosts not to go."

"Well," Devon started, walking up to the boy. Clasping his hands gently over Shinji's, he nodded in agreement. "Godspeed, Shinji." As Ikari slowly walked from the room towards the master stairway, Devon Miles punched a single button on his desk's telephone. "Yes, Katherine?" he asked as the handset made an audible click. "Send the Two-Thousand to our Tokyo-2 branch." As he looked out over the raging ocean and the clouds moving in, Devon nodded as the voice on the opposite end continued. "And get me the first flight to Japan."

**Tokyo-3 Demilitarized Historical Site, May 2023:**

Hikari Horaki stood amongst the graves in her simple white sundress, bowing her head as she placed the flowers next to the marker. The simple white cylinder protruded to nearly shoulder height, the simple engraving engulfed by the empty field of pillars. Reading the engraving as she did every time she visited for the last seven years.

"Nozomi is just finishing high school," she said to the pillar, studying the flowers she placed in the dirt. He never did like feminine things, but somehow, Horaki knew Suzahara would appreciate them. Glancing back at the endless field of death, she started to choke up, bringing her hands to her face. "Once… once she graduates, I think we are going to leave for Germany. Asuka…" She paused, trying to control her voice. "Asuka used to say it's safer there… and there are jobs." She paused, trying to take in a ragged breath, before she heard footsteps behind her.

In the distance, a young man with brown hair and opaque sunglasses wandered amongst the graves. Dressed in a black leather jacket, black slacks, dress shoes, and a deep blue polo shirt, he approached cautiously until he recognized the face of the girl. "No…" he muttered. Slowly, he reached up, pulling the shades from his face, revealing a vertical scar down his cheek, and the penetrating, blue eyes.

"I-Ikari?" Hikari started, pulling away. The brunette was certainly different than Shinji remembered, her hair down to the small of her back, and the tanned, freckled features tightened over an athletic figure. As she started to turn away, she noticed no one else in the cemetery. "But all of the pilots were-" Hikari froze, her mouth working silently. Shinji stared more intently, taking two steps forward, his hands reaching out to the woman. "The government said they killed all of them-"

Shinji shook his head, walking up to the marker. Kneeling in the dirt, he placed a small bouquet in his hands beside his friend's marker. Hikari's chest tightened, her breathing labored as she backed into the pillar behind her. "W-why?" she sobbed, her voice cracking. "Why?"

Shinji bolted from his reverie, staring up at the girl as he rose to his feet. "I had to come back… to find out-" he started. Frozen in place, he bit his lip, thinking of what he was supposed to say. "I needed to see… for myself… what happened…where everyone went." He watched as his vision blurred once again, and the young woman forced herself forward one step. "He… never should have accepted-" Again, the man paused. "I… shouldn't have, either…"

"You're… not with NERV?" she asked. As Shinji shook his head, Hikari looked nervously along the horizon. "Then… how?"

"I work with the Foundation," Shinji explained. Hikari looked confused for a moment, until she noted the symbol on the duffle bag at his side. As she pushed for more information, he simply froze, shaking his head. "Don't… not now, Class-Rep-"

As each bit back the words they wanted to say, they turned towards the setting sun, wandering aimlessly towards the main road. The city had been abandoned, left as a tribute and memorial to the horrors of the last war. Nothing had been touched since it was designated strictly a historical site, but there were still those who would linger amongst the ruins for days. Shinji had nowhere to go.

"Take me home," he whispered silently, looking out at the dwindling light.

**Tokyo-2 International Airport:**

The black on black streamlined car descended the ramp of the aging C-130 Hercules transport as Devon Miles watched silently from the private jet less than a mile away on the tarmac. The familiar shape cut against the dying sun as it retreated down the access road, shadowed by two security squad cars, blue lights flashing silently. Nodding once in approval, Devon turned from the glass, walking out of the aircraft towards the awaiting European sedan.

As the black sports car peeled away from the access road, through the checkpoint, and out along the main highway, the security cars came to a stop. The officers had done their job, and had not asked any questions as the vehicle continued down the highway. In the darkness of the coming night, the high intensity lamps flashed to life, while a single red laser pulsed along the streamlined fascia, the car accelerating to the speed limit.

Holding its course, it pulsed the millimetric wave radar. Within a fraction of a second, it received the emergency locator signal from the reflector built into the intricate watch strapped to its driver's wrist. Calculating over twenty routes and cross-referencing with current traffic conditions, the phantom cut across the lines of traffic, plotting an intercept course.

The last heir to its creator's legacy was near, and it would be there, waiting for him.

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No one has done it before, so I thought I would be the first. Those who know the original series have a better idea the direction I am going, though I am always open to suggestions and comments. Please leave them in a review.

Thanks

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	2. Family

I do not own the rights to "Neon Genesis Evangelion", "Knight Rider"or any of the persons, places, intangibles, or concepts within. This fan fiction is a non-profit tribute to both series. Therefore, if requested by Hideki Anno, Gainax, Glen A. Larson, Universal, or other interested parties, I will discontinue and remove this story immediately.

**Tokyo-3 Demilitarized Historical Site, May 2023:**

Holding its course, it pulsed the millimetric wave radar. Within a fraction of a second, it received the emergency locator signal from the reflector built into the intricate watch strapped to its driver's wrist. Calculating over twenty routes and cross-referencing with current traffic conditions, the phantom cut across the lines of traffic, plotting an intercept course.

The last heir to its creator's legacy was near, and it would be there, waiting for him.

As Hikari rounded the corner of the dilapidated building, she peered up at the figure scaling the collapsing stairs. Shinji Ikari clenched his hands down on the rusting steel guide rails, scaling the steps one at a time as he neared the ravaged apartment. Finally, walking up to the door, he gripped the partly spread door, pulling it back to reveal the dark, damp interior. Taking a cautious step inside, he peered into the darkness, gritting his teeth.

The furniture was coated in thick layers of mold, dust motes swirling about the stale air as the man closed the gap. Walking amongst the tattered sofa, the rotting kitchen chairs, and slowly maneuvering past the bedrooms, Shinji fell to his knees, and wept.

Horaki was suddenly behind him, placing her shaking hands on his shoulders as she knelt beside him. "We… took Pen-Pen in," she said, her mouth working against the words like bland cotton. "He's much older… but I think… I think he'll still…"

"Anywhere but here," Ikari answered. There was nothing further to say as the couple descended the fractured structure. The shadows jutted against the tortured landscape like great crevasses plunging into the depths of the Earth as the sun finally sank below the murky sea. When the darkness fully engulfed the ruins, Horaki shivered against the touch of night. Shinji, as if by instinct, slipped his stark jacket against the girl. The worn leather only insulated the cold against her skin, as the man stood frozen in the night.

The sound of grinding, crunching pebbles against the limp Earth alerted the man to the noise, his head snapping to attention. The shadows of three men displaced the last traces of light. As they approached, the dark urban camouflage of the Self Defense Forces gave their intent away. Shinji remembered what they had done all those years before. Watching them fumble with the tactical lights on their submachine guns, he knew peace was a lie.

"Sh-Shinji?" Hikari whispered, thinking better of it only after the words trailed from her lips. At the name, the men looked up at the pair, shining the light against their eyes. They whispered amongst themselves, as if the world around them would swallow anything louder. Only the submachine guns rattled and clacked against the veil of night, their bolts drawn back to chamber fresh rounds.

The efforts to silence the last of the Marduke Qualifiers had stalled nearly three years before, the soldiers knew. However, as they demanded papers from the two, somehow, they realized, their mission taken on by their government years before would finally come to a close. Their employers would have their insurance.

As they raised the weapons, Ikari clenched his fists tight, pulling away from the girl as he moved in between her and the soldiers. Just before the first of the men could fire, however, the crunch of soiled Earth behind them erupted into a static whine of a turbine. The darkness peeled away as a brilliant light purified the ruins, followed by a single, pulsing red laser.

Shinji did not hesitate, launching himself towards the first of the men as the black sports car accelerated into the group. Hikari shrank back as the armored vehicle simply pushed past the men, angling between her and the soldiers. As a door opened on the right side, a harsh, metallic voice echoed into the darkness. "Enter!"

The door clasped shut and locked just as the two soldiers rounded on the car, grasping and smacking the butts of their weapons against the glass. Hikari could only stare out at them, her body limp from fright. When the car shook with a quick transfer to reverse gear, peeling away the top layers of rubber from its tires, she felt a pressure against her skin, restraining her against the quick motion.

"Y-you're Ikari's son, aren't you?" the first soldier snapped, struggling against Shinji's grasp against his throat. Frantically pushing and blocking the Child's attacks with his weapon, the leader was quickly losing the fight, overpowered by the younger man. Falling to his knees, his comrades turned to face the survivor just as Shinji levered his fingers between the man's grasp. The weapon slipped slowly into Ikari's hands, the pilot jerking the gun eagerly from the soldier.

Just as he brought the barrel down to the man's face, a blurred motion behind Shinji caught his attention. Leaping from the direction of the armored machine, Ikari tumbled along the ground, the soldiers barely crawling away from the massive thing sent against them. The left door whirring as it jutted open, Ikari scrambled inside, keeping the barrel of the submachine gun aimed at the attackers.

"Brace," the inhuman voice announced, the vehicle snapping into an evasive turn, and slamming into a forward gear, tires erupting in white, billowing smoke. The car accelerated hard, forcing the two into the backs of their seats, the turbine screaming over the dead of night.

"Shinji?" Hikari screeched. Leaning against the center console, the brunette found her hands clasped against his, the gun resting on the floorboard. "Shinji, are you okay?"

But Shinji could only glare back at the three men left in the dust. Turning slowly towards the digital displays of the glass cockpit, Ikari's mouth twitched, partly from anger, and an odd sensation creeping up his right arm. He glanced over at the girl he knew from school, involuntarily squeezing her hand gently in reply.

Hikari pulled from the boy's gaze, her cheeks blushing a gentle pink in the dim glow of the shimmering readouts. "What... is all this?"

"It's… my last promise, to an old friend…" Shinji echoed. His hands slowly reached up, wrapping around the steering yoke as his feet planted firmly against the pedals. Pushing down against the accelerator, the car surged forward, a single indicator flashing "pursuit" as the speedometer gauge clocked through the digits, the steering naturally carving through the battered asphalt of the mountain road. As they passed the scenic viewpoint on their left, Shinji turned awkwardly.

Behind him in the distance, he could have sworn he saw the shadow of a young boy, a woman, and a car watching the ruins towering over the valley as the darkness swallowed Hakone.

**Hikari Residence, Tokyo-2, May 2023:**

Nozomi stared from the second story window of the aging rental home at the sleek shadow of a car parked in their cracking driveway, a single halogen streetlamp casting it's orange hue over the crystalline surface. The sandy brunette had grown taller, but as tall as she was, taller than her surviving sister, there was a child-like kindness in her heart. Watching Hikari and "Asuka's old friend" in the kitchen, she sighed, stepping away from the wall and towards the stairway.

"How long you going to stay?" Hikari asked, setting a cup of fresh coffee down in front of the man's hands. When she didn't get an answer, the woman took a seat beside him at the table. "You know… Ken is still out there, playing soldier," she joked softly. "Maybe you should wait until he gets back."

"War correspondent doesn't count as 'playing'," Shinji stressed, taking a slow sip of the dark coffee. He looked over to the milky, rich tans of the girl's coffee as she took a gentle sip, tilting her head as she set the cup down. Still in her sundress, she had shrugged the leather jacket off, letting it tumble around her waist in the chair. "I couldn't face him… not… not yet."

"And you could face me?" the woman insisted. "What is it with you? You disappear after… after everyone came back… and now, you just show up like nothing-"

"I had to take care of my responsibilities," Ikari stressed. Cradling the mug with both hands, he pulled the dark, hot fluid down his throat without a second thought. "I owed that man a lot… more than anyone else… especially Misato."

"Now you take that back, Ikari!" Horaki snapped, rising to her feet. "Katsuragi-san did her best to take care of you and Asuka!" At their dead friend's name, Hikari sank back into the chair. "How can you _possibly_ say something like that?"

"She didn't save us," Shinji growled through a muffled breath. "She certainly wasn't a surrogate mother… She was just using us to kill Angels, nothing else!"

In the driveway outside, Nozomi walked up to the black phantom gleaming in the darkness. Her simple blue and white school uniform with its simple, gentle lines clashed against the sharp angles of the streamlined body. As the girl stepped closer, the passenger door opened, a slight hiss of pressurized air slipping past her skin. Without hesitation, she climbed softly into the bucket seat, watching the displays flicker to life. "You… you saved my sister tonight," she whispered. Reaching out with her hand, she stroked the polished dashboard. "Thank you…"

A small telltale gauge fluctuated for a moment, before a digital oscilloscope danced over the main display. "Define… 'thank you'," the voice asked, the haunting echo grating against the internal speakers.

"You talk?" Nozomi squealed. "It… thank you means… appreciation… for what you did."

The displays flickered and shifted slightly, as a list of dictionary entries scanned across the main display in both Japanese and English. "An expression of gratitude…" the voice replied. Nozomi nodded, as the display danced back and forth through the dictionary entries, while another telltale gauge glowed. "You express gratitude for protecting the life of Hikari Horaki?"

"Of course," the girl answered. "She is my sister… She is family!" The youngest Horaki sighed at that, leaning back into the bucket seat, slumping against the door latch. "Though sometimes she comes off too protective… like I can't take care of myself. Sometimes, I wish I knew what she was thinking, but she won't tell me."

"Family… protect each other?" the voice asked. The dictionary terms winked out of existence, before various scanned legal documents were magnified over the display as the collection of microprocessors set to work on a new logical deduction. While Nozomi stared in bewilderment, the internal speakers switched from the raspy voice, to a grainy amplification of Hikari and Shinji talking to each other. On a secondary display, a thermal image of the two at the dining table flashed into bright greens, reds, and darker blues.

"So… all that happened, all that you, Asuka, and Misato were… all that we were was just a pack of lies?" Hikari whimpered. "Then, why come back at all?"

Shinji simply stared down at the empty cup of coffee, no answer forthcoming. Nozomi could only watch in silence as the splotchy pattern representing her sister rose from the table, handing back the jacket, and stepped away into the soft glow of the awaiting bedroom. Shinji's form stood still, anchored to the chair as a thermal shift in the facial muscles formed. "Traces of saline detected," the voice continued. "Temperature and heart rate suggest physical stress."

"Family," Nozomi indicated.

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Comments/suggestions, please leave a review.

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	3. Escape

I do not own the rights to "Neon Genesis Evangelion", "Knight Rider"or any of the persons, places, intangibles, or concepts within. This fan fiction is a non-profit tribute to both series. Therefore, if requested by Hideki Anno, Gainax, Glen A. Larson, Universal, or other interested parties, I will discontinue and remove this story immediately.

**Tokyo-2 JSSDF Outpost, May 2023:**

"Are you sure?" Colonel Watanabe asked, holding the telephone handset up to his ear. Sitting in the cramped office in the concrete bunker on the edge of the Tokyo-2 city limits, the graying, slightly overweight man nodded, listening to the report from the Tokyo-3 sentries. "Alright, report in to your relief, and join the convoy to Tokyo-2. It's the only civilization within driving distance of Hakone. Sweep the city, and if anyone resists… you know what to do."

"Sir," a young brunette woman in captain stripes said, "can these reports be taken seriously?"

"I'm shocked at you, Ibuki," the colonel grunted sourly. "You of all people should know what those traitorous pilots are capable of." He watched as the woman flinched ever so slightly. "They attack our forces when NERV is declared an enemy of the state, ravage our soldiers, and now, when we get these back from reconnaissance, Ikari resurfaces." He gestured towards the black and white enhanced photos tucked in the red classified folder lying on top of his simple desk. "If NERV rebuilds and sends _it_ out again, we can ill afford to defend what's left of our nation. The best we can do is intercept the threat before it's completed, and destroy it, or destroy the pilot."

Captain Maya Ibuki nodded, her shoulder-length hair tucked neatly into a bun as she saluted. "Sir!" she answered, turning on her heel and retreating to the corridors of the cavernous tomb. Once outside, she closed the steel reinforced door quietly, spinning around to the young man in khaki shirt and shorts waiting outside the office. "Get in contact with your supervisors, and leak the pilot's arrival… _quietly_."

"But Captain," Kensuke Aida stressed. "If you do that, the entire city will be out after him!"

Maya nodded. "At least that way, he has a fighting chance…"

**Tokyo-2 Horaki Residence, May 2023:**

"-Reports are just coming in," the news anchor's voice interrupted over the noise in the kitchen. Nozomi adjusted the volume over the sound of her sister cooking breakfast. As the sunlight shone through the east windows, the brunette squinted as an image flashed onto the screen.

"This is an artist's rendering of the suspect, based on reports from airport staff and a brief obtained by an anonymous source-"

"SHINJI-KUN!" Nozomi shouted. The kitchen echoed with the sounds of dropped pans and clattering silverware. In the bathroom, a cross between a grunt and a yelp emerged. Striding out in his black slacks and matching black polo shirt, Ikari ran his hand through his hair.

"What the hell is it, Noz-" he started. She interrupted, pointing at the screen. He stared in shock, the artist sketch of his face next to a copy of his old junior high identification photo. Hikari rounded the corner, the simple white apron tied around her black pencil skirt and white blouse, her heels hammering the linoleum flooring with each step. All three went silent, the youngest turning up the volume as the screen cut to interviews with the "man on the street".

"That war criminal… here?" a middle-aged housewife asked. "What is this place coming to?" A younger man in front of a delivery truck was next. "The military should just shoot him on sight." One after another continued, until Shinji thought he recognized a familiar face.

"That's right, Suzuki-san," Kensuke Aida reported over his cellphone feed to the news anchor. A stock photo of Aida was placed on the screen over a metropolitan map of Tokyo-2. "The self defense forces have mobilized, forming checkpoints throughout Tokyo-2. Given their concentration and staging, capturing the fugitive is simply a matter of time."

Hikari watched in surprise as Shinji clenched his teeth, bringing his left wrist up to his face. "You getting this?" he said into his wristwatch.

"The news coverage regarding your presence in Tokyo-2?" the vehicle asked. "Yes, I have been monitoring both commercial and scrambled military channels since 0452 Hours Local Time." The Two Thounsand Series listened to the stressed breathing from the wristwatch transceiver. "Was there something else, Mr. Ikari?"

Shinji stared at the tv, and watching the conversation between the anchor and Kensuke continue, started to form an idea. "Can you track a cellphone signal, and pinpoint its current position?"

"Affirmative, Mr. Ikari-"

"Just call me Shinji," the man interrupted. "Then do it. Take the phone call from channel 3 on the television, and scan all open calls for the Kensuke Aida's cellphone-"

"Kensuke Aida's current cellphone listing is more effective," the car answered. Searching the online directories through a variety of public and private record sources, the AI responded promptly. "Kensuke Aida, age twenty-two, current residence listed as-"

"Okay," Shinji answered, throwing his black jacket on. "Track that phone, and plot an intercept course." Striding into the guest bedroom, Ikari reached under the bed, fishing out the German submachine gun stolen from the soldiers the night before. Checking the magazine, he racked the action, and slung the weapon over his shoulder. Throwing his jacket on as he jogged for the door, he almost ignored Hikari as she tried to block his path.

"Shinji, wait!" Horaki barked. She stood in front of the door, her back pressed against the steel reinforced wood. Looking down at the weapon tucked under his jacket, she stared back up at him. "Don't be stupid! If you go to talk to Ken, the police or the army will kill you!"

Reaching for the doorknob, he brushed the girl aside. "You know, that's one thing none of you ever figured out! It's _my_ life! We aren't in class anymore, Hikari. Stop telling me what to do!" Pushing her forcibly away, he levered the door open, and sprinted down the driveway to the black sports car. "Alright, you have weapons?"

"Shinji," the voice started. "If you are attempting to run the blockades to intercept Mr. Aida-"

"Weapons! What do you have?"

"I am not equipped with offensive weapons," the car responded. "They were removed during the prototyping stage." The car opened its driver side door, allowing Shinji access as he slipped into the seat. The steering wheel moving into place and ergonomics adjusting to his specifications, Shinji nervously looked behind him as the APU slowly spun the turbine to life. "However, my molecular bonded shell and defensive capabilities statistically will defeat up to sixty-five point two percent of all inbound attacks."

"That will have to be good enough," Ikari sighed. The high-pitched turbine whirring over the quiet suburban morning, Shinji toggled a reverse gear, and pressed down on the accelerator, sending the Knight Industries prototype screeching into the residential street. "Okay, let's do it!"

Hikari and Nozomi both stared out the window, watching the black car peel away from their home, the odd mix of flat and gloss black armor cutting through the daylight. "Baka…" Hikari muttered, wiping at an odd dampness around her eyes. Nozomi looked up at her sister, then down the street towards the retreating car.

**Tokyo-2 City Center, May 2023:**

As the sports car cut through traffic wildly, slaloming past the morning commuters, Shinji jerked the steering wheel in his hands back and forth. Clearing the traffic with a serenade of honking horns trailing behind him, Shinji worked through the controls of the overhead touchscreen, trying to bring up a phone number for Devon at the Foundation. "If you are looking for Mr. Miles," the car interrupted, "he is at the Tokyo-2 corporate office."

"What's he doing there?" Shinji demanded, suddenly noticing a police siren wailing behind him. As the squad car pulled alongside the Two Thousand, the officers were suddenly unable to peer through the opaque window glass as it shifted and shimmered in the light. "Did he follow me?"

"He seemed to think it prudent at the time," the voice replied, bringing up a video conferencing connection with Devon's private line. "Mr. Miles holding for you on scrambled frequency."

As Devon's face materialized on the glass cockpit main display, the squad car to Ikari's left started to swerve, tucking behind the left quarter panel. "Yes, Shinji?" Devon asked. Suddenly, a violent impact vibrated through the chassis of the car. "Shinji, what's wrong?"

"Impact detected," the car responded. "No physical damage, but their attempts to deviate our course could succeed if we do not accelerate."

"What the hell?" the officer in the passenger seat barked. Looking out the side window, he shook his head in disbelief, turning to his partner at the wheel. "That car isn't even scratched!" The squad car rammed into the black shadow once again, fragments of the front fascia grinding and tumbling away down the street. However, the getaway car simply continued on, not a mark in the paint.

"Armored car!" the driving officer assumed. "Must be!" Glancing down at their tactical radio, the officer reached for the mic, keying in on the main frequency. "This is One-Adam-Seven, in pursuit of unknown black sports car northbound on Motorway Five. Suspect vehicle is armored. Requesting back-up. Say again, requesting back-up."

"Devon, we have a problem," Shinii answered, pushing down on the accelerator, launching the car past the police, and cornering hard into the city center. "The self defense forces are trying to kill me! They attacked me last night, and now the whole city is against me." He paused, trying to catch his breath as he worked the steering wheel in his hands, slaloming the pursuing squad car off-course. "I need you to get everything you have on Kensuke Aida."

Devon watched in horror as the police car behind Shinji peeled away, smashing head first into a convenience store display window. "Don't tell me you're trying to run!" Mr. Miles exclaimed. "Shinji, take the Two Thousand, and drive to the US Embassy. Our attorneys and I can meet you there in twenty minutes." As another squad car pulled around the intersection just ahead of Shinji, he pushed his foot down to the floor. "Shinji?"

"Prepare for collision," the car announced, activating the passive laser restraint system.

"Not until I get Kensuke," Shinji answered, holding the wheel steady. The police car closing in, Shinji watched as the officers squirmed in panic, turning to evade. However, Ikari sent the prototype directly for the driver side quarter panel. The collision sheared the side paneling away, cleaving the front end of the squad car through a third of the engine compartment as the phantom accelerated through the impact. The second squad car down, Shinji looked back, a nervous grin slowly forming on his face. "I've gotta hand it to you, Devon… the armor works."

The officers in the first car slowly jogged to the second car, pulling away the sheared passenger door. "You alright?" one of them asked the driver. Reaching for his handheld radio, he turned to watch the suspect pull away, still accelerating. "This is One-Adam-Seven. One-Adam-Four and us are down!"

"One-L-Twenty," their commander answered. "What do you mean down?"

"Suspect car is armored… took us both down, still headed northbound on Motorway Five. Call up the Self Defense Forces. We can't… we can't do anything."

"Are you completely mad?" Devon hissed. Finding he couldn't reason with Ikari, he turned his focus to the car, starting to key in an alphanumerical sequence on his laptop. Suddenly, the car started to swerve, decelerating into a tight turn, redirecting it southbound. "I'm ordering the Two Thounsand to the Embassy. If you know what is good for you, you'll sit there, and wait until we arrive." He watched helplessly as Ikari struggled against the steering wheel, trying to fight the commands.

"Shinji, please," Devon insisted. "They've already purged the other pilots. We have to try playing it diplomatically-"

"No we're not, Devon!" Shinji snapped. Reaching for the overhead panel, he started toggling the inputs for a manual override. Just as the car came within sight of the embassy, Shinji grinned in satisfaction, keying in the right sequence.

As the car's AI powered down, Shinji slammed on the brakes, turning the wheel once again. The black silhouette swung violently around just meters from the four officers, the rear wheels chirped against the pavement, the multi-fuel turbine's excessive power causing them to break traction with the asphalt. The lead officer coughed, covering his mouth as the white smoke engulfed them.

Headed northbound once again into the heart of the city, Ikari reactivated the computer's higher functions. "Manual override reset," the voice barked out. "Please enter login and passcode."

Turning down into a dark alley, Shinji brought the car to a stop. "Recognize Ikari, Shinji," the young man answered, glaring at passing traffic. "Reset username and passcode, voice recognition only." The display window started ticking off the wait time, processing the request. Pressing his hand to one of the panels to take a palm scan, Ikari took a deep breath.

"You are attempting to block all input from Mr. Miles and Foundation control," the car answered. Waiting for a response, the vehicle's turbine slowed to a dull whir. As Shinji struggled to toggle a forward gear, the main display scanned over a variety of legal documents. "If you wish to avoid temporary control, my firewall is now operational."

"Why are you doing this?" Shinji asked, staring back at the dashboard dumbly. "I mean… aren't you-"

"There is only a thirty-two percent probability of reaching the embassy with current troop deployments, and less than thirteen percent probability to convince local authorities to recognize your diplomatic immunity given your prior actions."

"So, now what?" the young man sighed.

As a simple chime sounded over the internal speakers, the car shifted into a forward gear, and spun up the turbine. "Self Defense Forces communications are now scrambled. We have a projected window of three minutes, twenty-one seconds to intercept Mr. Aida and reach the embassy before their communications are re-established." The wheels started to spin, the chassis of the car surging against the asphalt as it punched through the exit to the alley, diverting through the city center.

**Tokyo-2 JSSDF Convoy, May 2023:**

Kensuke Aida sat in the rear passenger seat of the Humvee, looking out the window. Just before the radio blackout, the Forty-Seventh Light Infantry Brigade was ordered to intercept a disturbance in the city center related to a high speed pursuit. However, this was not on the forefront of Aida's mind.

He had betrayed his friend. Although he owed Ibuki for helping him get out of Tokyo-3, and furthering his journalism career with her military connections on more than one occasion, Aida knew he owed Shinji more. His thoughts were interrupted, however, as the driver of the Humvee called his attention forward.

"Hey, it's that sports car!" the soldier called out. "Okay, bring up the fifty-cal, and flank it!" Just as the driver started to bring the armored Humvee to a stop, the wraith ahead of him sped up, aiming directly for the front bumper. "H-hey!" he shouted. The car wasn't slowing down. "Hurry up and shoot it!"

The Browning machine gun erupted in a staccato of fire, shells rebounding off the steel roof above as Kensuke peered out his window. Watching as sparks danced over the hood and windshield of the sports car, however, he could not see any physical damage. "Holy sh-"

"What are you do-?" Shinji asked, throwing his hands up over his face, just as the car cut to the left, and plowed its rear quarter panel into the front bumper of the Humvee. The jarring impact brought the prototype to a sudden halt, the opposing transport crumpling under the deceleration. As Kensuke jolted in his seat from the impact, the passenger door swung open, just missing the soldier falling from the roof-mounted machine gun to the pavement below.

Kensuke stared through the open cockpit at Shinji, jaw gaping in shock. "Ikari?" Before he knew precisely what was happening over the shouting of the soldiers raising their weapons, Shinji returning fire from the driver side, and the car melting its rubber tires in a flashy escape, Aida found himself pressed against the passenger seat of the black coupe, hurtling towards the motorway. "I… I'm going to be sick…"

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	4. A Shadowy Flight

I do not own the rights to "Neon Genesis Evangelion", "Knight Rider"or any of the persons, places, intangibles, or concepts within. This fan fiction is a non-profit tribute to both series. Therefore, if requested by Hideki Anno, Gainax, Glen A. Larson, Universal, or other interested parties, I will discontinue and remove this story immediately.

**Tokyo-2 US Embassy, May 2023:**

"Oh yes, you handled that _quite_ well, didn't you?" Devon shouted as he paced back and forth in the sealed conference room of the embassy. "Police and military equipment destroyed, public lives put at risk, but _all _for a noble cause, I'm sure!" As Mr. Miles rounded on the pair, Ikari simply kept his eyes locked on the elderly man. "How does his involvement help the situation, exactly?"

Kensuke stood, riveted to the floor as he watched the exchange between Shinji and the older man. As the European man continued on about his involvement, Aida couldn't help but take offense. He was a war correspondent. Disclosing the truth wasn't just his journalistic duty. It was fun, in a way. Compared to his latest reports, however, there was no way he was being pulled from something like this. First hand experience in a desperate escape by the only known surviving Eva pilot, an escape in which the pilot single-handedly defeated every threat sent his way. That was worth dying for.

"Mr. Miles," Kensuke started, raising a finger to interject. As Shinji and Devon both turned to the sandy-haired man, Aida shrank back for a moment. "I was just… doing my journalistic duty!"

"Duty, my eye!" Ikari snapped, rounding on his friend. "You've always been jumping head-first into danger, just to spy the action. How many times did you escape the shelters?" Taking a step towards Kensuke, Shinji stared him down. "What I want to know… is why you reported my arrival? Do you know what they'll do to me?"

"Exactly what we need to discuss," a man's voice boomed from the hallway, the door to the conference room swinging open. A colonel from the Self Defense Forces walked in, taking long, confident strides as a young, brunette aide followed behind and to the left. "Mr. Miles, I presume?" the colonel asked. "Colonel Watanabe, Internal Security Division." Reaching into his briefcase, he violently shook a piece of paper in his hand, crumpling it as he gestured. "As of eleven-hundred hours this morning, the Japanese government demand the return of Shinji Ikari to our custody."

"Ms. Ibuki?" Shinji squeaked, glancing back and forth between Kensuke and the colonel. "Why is a NERV employee working in Internal Security?" As Watanabe twitched in confusion, Ikari felt an idea start to twist and form in his mind. "So, the rumors were true at the Foundation…"

"What rumors?" Kensuke asked, trying to control an excited squeal.

Devon started to intercept the colonel, Shinji taking a stance beside the Foundation director. "Colonel Watanabe, I didn't believe your government would be so foolish, trying again with the Eva series!" Looking at the brunette as she twitched and shrank back in embarrassment, Devon started towards the briefcase waiting on the polished desk in the corner of the room.

"What are you talking about?" Colonel Watanabe hollered, pointing at Ikari. "He's been working with the rogue NERV element all along! Why else would a pilot be sighted in Tokyo-3, but to recover more outlawed technology? And Captain Ibuki has been a loyal member of my staff for nearly five years. She has been vital to the decommissioning of the GeoFront and remaining NERV equipment in Hakone."

Devon Miles stared, taking a step back as he jutted his chin out in defiance. "I don't know where you get your information, but Mr. Ikari has been working for the Foundation for the past seven years, and never once made contact with any rogue NERV elements." The aging man in his dapper suit rounded on the colonel with a file from his briefcase. "Mr. Ikari's personnel file, straight from our corporate headquarters. You will note the extensive background investigation-"

"You think I would believe any of this… this garbage?" the colonel demanded, slapping the file away in disgust. "Your organization isn't wholly approved in our country, Mr. Miles. Why should we believe anything you say? We have missing shipments of decommissioned NERV hardware, and a known war criminal spotted in the Demilitarized Zone."

"War criminal?" Ikari interrupted, shoving his way past Devon, and standing toe to toe with Watanabe. "Who sent the Self Defense Forces to massacre women and children in the shelters? Who dropped the N2 device on the GeoFront? Who killed all those NERV personnel while they surrendered?" Shinji closed to within inches of the man's face. "It must take a lot of bravery… ordering your elite special forces to kill unarmed children-"

As the colonel's nostrils flared, the graying soldier's right hand reached out to deliver a strike across Ikari's face. Instantly, Ikari's hand intercepted, and twisted the man's arthritic wrist. "Ms. Katsuragi insisted I learn some form of self defense." He twisted the joints savagely in his hands, watching the colonel crumple to the floor. Snatching the semiautomatic from the holster, Ikari put it to the man's head, while Ibuki simply froze, unable to respond.

"Shinji!" Devon shouted. "For God's sake, put that down! This bickering solves nothing!" Ikari glanced back to Devon, then to Ibuki. As he gestured to her hands, Maya nodded, dropping her service pistol to the ground, taking a step back. With the pressure off, Shinji released the colonel, but didn't put the gun away.

"Talk!" Ikari snapped. Kensuke watched his friend in horror. The eyes, the haunting blue eyes went dark as the boy he once knew changed into a hideous monster, the pistol pressed against the colonel's head. "You have one last chance," Ikari whispered. "You think after what I saw your people do in the GeoFront, I will hesitate?"

"It was orders…" the colonel insisted. "NERV was going to make a move against us, try to destroy the world!" Watanabe would have said more, had Ibuki not started forward, holding her hands open. "Captain?" the colonel hissed. "What are you doing?"

"Shinji, please!" Maya whispered.

"What's been stolen?" Ikari snarled, pressing the barrel against the colonel's temple. "You say I'm involved, and our records say the Self Defense Forces have a rogue element trying to sell off all decommissioned NERV tech." Shinji took a deep breath. "Now… between Captain Ibuki, Mr. Aida, and I, you have three experts in Evangelion technology, and what it can do in the wrong hands."

"You're not suggesting-" the colonel muttered.

**Hakone Prefecture Airspace, June 2023:**

"Is he completely deranged?" Hikari shouted over the phone, the plastic casing crackling in her tightening fist. "Of all the stupid, idiotic things! Have you seen the news coverage? The whole city is after him!" She paused, trying to listen to the response over a whirlwind of static. "What is that?"

"Sorry, Horaki-san," Kensuke shouted over the rushing of air in the back of the VTOL transport. The loading ramp was left open, dangling slack by the hydraulic rams as the sleek, armored sports car pulled up nose-first to the gaping maw. "Shinji promises he'll call you when he can." Before the girl could protest further, Aida switched off the satellite phone, stashing it in his backpack.

"Good to go?" Ikari shouted through the open driver side window.

"Yeah," Kensuke nodded, handing him the large telephoto lens and camera unit. "The colonel won't let you use any military equipment beyond the drop, or it will wind up right back in his lap. This should give you the kind of range you need, though really, if you're trying to play international reporter, I should be the one going-"

"I've already been over that with you," Shinji replied, glaring at his friend. "No partners!" He sighed, thinking back to his time with NERV, and the fall during Third Impact. Muttering under his breath, he started to roll up the window. "I can't take responsibility for another… never again."

Kensuke silently nodded as the window shut, and eased his way past the cargo netting and anchor points to the cockpit, taking a seat beside Ibuki. Slipping a pair of headphones on, he adjusted the boom microphone, and selected the private channel between him and the brunette. "He's ready," Aida said. "How long will we orbit?"

"Just another hour," Maya answered, turning from her seat to face the correspondent. "An old E-3 Sentry AWACS is being pulled out of mothballs for the rest of the op. It should be ready by then."

"Why not re-task a satellite?" Kensuke asked.

"Too expensive," Maya started. "It would also raise suspicions at command. Besides, the AWACS can just reset its transponder, and blend in with commercial traffic."

Kensuke nodded silently. The negotiation with Colonel Watanabe, letting the Foundation help investigate the security breach at the decommissioned NERV site was a touchy subject already. To add to the complexity, the colonel had to somehow find a way to keep it off his superiors' radar. That meant pulling a lot of favors, and using less than ideal tools for the mission.

As the loading officer raised his hand, a thumbs up signal gestured towards the black on black monstrosity, Shinji nodded in the rear view mirror. The turbine roared to life just as the drogue chute flew out of the cargo area, catching the wind and tightening the slack in the lines. Seconds later, the car rocketed off the loading ramp, tumbling end over end through the air towards the ground.

Shinji was pressed back into the seat under the acceleration, clinging to the steering yoke as the passive laser restraint held him firmly in place. "Altitude is eighteen-thousand feet and dropping," the mechanical voice ticked off. "Cabin pressure holding. You can relax your grip, if you want."

"Easy… for you… to say…" Shinji grunted, squeezing his eyes shut. "I… really hate… flying!"

"You think this was in my design parameters?" the Two Thousand retorted, its armored body floundering in the rush of turbulence screeching against the armored polycarbonate windows. Watching silently as its driver started to turn green at the unstable trajectory through the atmosphere, a medical chart came to life on the main display. "One moment," the car continued. "I am adjusting cabin air composition, adding carbon dioxide to help with your motion sickness."

"Thanks…" Shinji coughed out, suppressing his stomach contents as his body writhed in agony.

"Shinji, please put your head between your knees to relieve the symptoms. This is new upholstery."

As the drogue chute flew away, the main chute finally deployed, jerking the Knight Industries prototype to a slow descent. Shinji jolted in his seat, slumping his head into his lap as the car's flight stabilized, the chassis rocking gently against the air currents as the ground approached slowly.

"How… much further?" Ikari wheezed, gripping at his temples. Before he could receive an answer, however, a firm impact shot through the tires, suspension, and into the back of the driver seat. The vibration stirred Shinji from his agony, just as the parachute anchored to the roof of the car was cut free with explosive bolts. "We're… here?"

"Yes, Shinji, I noticed," the car replied, applying more throttle to the turbine as it selected the primary drive gear.

"Very funny…" he sighed, wiping the sweat from his brow. "What do I even call you, anyway? Two Thousand? Knight Prototype?"

"Mr. Miles suggested 'KITT' would be more suitable," the car replied, selecting the auto cruise feature as it peeled away on the abandoned access road just outside of Hakone. "But of course, that is a human sentiment."

Shinji just shook his head. "My first mission for the Foundation, and I'm arguing with my car." He looked at the main display, which had twisted into a map of the Hakone Prefecture. As the scarred dirt road jolted the chassis as they picked up speed, Ikari sank further into the driver seat, gripping his stomach. "Kitt," Shinji muttered, "you can… take the wheel for now."

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